Page 122 of Cruel Malady: A Necrosis of the Mind

An invitation for brunch from Vanessa is not a casual summons. “I don’t understand what’s happening, but I have to go.”

“I know where you are right now,” she says, her voice taking on a stern edge. “I’ve sent Patrick to fetch you. He should be arriving shortly. We’ll discuss this once you’re here.”

I glance up to see my mother’s driver pulling to the curb across the street.

“Shit.” I end the call and walk toward the crosswalk, but my gaze is drawn to a suited figure in the backseat of the car, and I immediately stop.

My whole body ices over. Time suspends as our eyes meet. That piercing gaze I stared into while feeling him inside me, that I’ve craved with both fear and longing. A clash of emotions war within me, my heart beating at a frenzy.

I step off the curb toward the car, never taking my eyes off Alex. Last night could’ve been another one of my dreams; I’m not even sure if it was real.

I’m drawn to him by the tethered cord between us. Terrified to look away, frightened to reach him, a swirling vortex of emotions drowning out the honks and shouts as vehicles brake and swerve.

Arms wrap my waist and I’m hauled out of the street.

“Let me go—” I elbow Patrick’s ribs, but he tightens his hold despite my struggle. My body remembers every bit of abuse I put it through as pain webs my muscles.

I’ve lost sight of Alex. Searching madly, I feel like a wild animal who just lost their prey.

“Miss Vaughn, it’s not safe,” Patrick says as he sets me on the sidewalk. Mouth thinning into a hard line, he grabs his side. “Are you okay?”

His question is weighted with more than one meaning of my current state.

“I’m fine,” I say, distracted as I lock gazes with Alex in the car. I shake my head, then look at my mother’s driver. “I’m sorry. For your ribs.”

He blinks, stricken by my apology. “It’s all right, Miss Vaughn.”

When I look over to find Alex, I’m torn between storming toward him and running in the opposite direction.

I don’t know how the hell he managed to orchestrate this—but I should never be surprised where Alex is concerned. And yet, every single time, he finds a new way to shock me.

Patrick opens the passenger-side door of the Audi. “Let’s get you home.”

His voice draws me out of my thoughts and I close my eyes briefly, making a decision. I pass the passenger door and open the backseat door, sliding in next to Alex.

He brushes his finger over the back of my hand. “I always have a contingency plan,” he says in a hushed tone.

I stare straight ahead. “You brought my mother into this,” I say, snatching the seatbelt and buckling in. “You don’t have a plan. You have a death wish.”

I glimpse his boyish smirk from my periphery.

First, I’ll handle Vanessa. Then I’ll take care of the mad scientist.

I can only deal with so much crazy at one time.

“To the witch, Patrick,” I say.

Patrick’s grin is evident in the rear-view mirror as he puts the car in Drive. “Yes, ma’am.”

* * *

It’s an ambush.

As I enter the rooftop terrace of my parents’ three-story Park Avenue penthouse that overlooks an expansive view of the city, I see Rochelle lounged near the plunge pool. She’s having a mimosa with my mother. Both of them recline on white chaises, like it’s not a weekday morning.

“I have no idea what’s going on, but this just looks toxic.” I immediately start to leave, and it’s Rochelle who hops up to stop me.

“Sit your scrawny ass down and shut it,” she snaps, literally snapping her fingers and glaring through a giant pair of expensive sunglasses.

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